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Adventure Creative Nonfiction Drama

As far back as I can remember I have had a boat of some kind.

My first craft was an 8-foot sailing pram. It was severely in need of repair but it was free and it was mine. It sunk before I could drag it home so the first order of business was hull repair.

My addiction progressed throughout the years and many different watercraft.

Power or sail. If it floats, I am drawn to it like a mosquito to the flame.

A good friend of mine purchased a 30-foot cruising sailboat. He knew I was a boat nut and invited me over to examine his purchase.

She was old but sound. There was a good sail inventory and many reefing points on the mainsail.

This old girl had seen many ports of call. Stepping aboard the deck was solid under my feet.

As requested, I opened hatches, inspected the bilge, the standing rigging and electrical.

Had I seen the for sale sign I would have bought her myself.

We had several weekends cruising up and down the river while I taught him the ropes.

It was decided that we sail to the Dry Tortugas.

Several weekends of practicing man overboard drills, raising and lowering the sails, reading the compass and divining a course on the chart we were ready.

We would leave next Friday.

The weather was predicted to be fair for the next 4 days. We loaded grocery’s, extra water, clothing and personal care items. The fuel tanks were full and we had fair winds.

Our journey was 195 miles with an estimated 6.5 knot speed we would reach our destination in 30 hours.

Soon the land was out of view.  There was a wonderous sunset of oranges fading to reds and then darkness. On we sailed.

On the water at night was always special. The sky would open and reveal secrets not seen on land.

The seas started to build overnight but the old girl proved to be very seaworthy.

Just before the day broke I could make out the perimeter markers of the protected and shallow areas around the Tortugas and Fort Jefferson. When you are at marker I, directly north of the Fort, the channel is due South. We arrived at the anchorage in the late morning. We saw a great deal of activity aboard the other boats in the anchorage.

I hailed one craft and was informed of an approaching hurricane.  "But the weather was supposed to be good for another two days."  

“This storm caught everyone by surprise.” He replied. “It is hitting Jamaica about now.” “Listen to NOAA weather.” He concluded.”

There was no way to outrun the storm. Our best option was to sail due east to Key West about 90 miles away.

Everyone was exhausted and hungry. We decided to have a warm meal and take a nap.

There was one excursion to visit the fort. It had been a prison and held Dr. Mudd at one time. We saw his cell.

Sailing in nasty weather in taxing and not to be attempted if you are exhausted. We decided to rest the night and leave at first light.

We stowed all the gear for rough weather then went to sleep.

In the morning the wind was already howling. There were whitecaps in the anchorage. I rigged the mainsail tied down to the smallest area possible and found a small storm jib in the forepeak. I let the sails luft and started the engine. The anchor was raised and we made for the east channel and Key West.

Outside the anchorage the wave height was immediately higher. About 4 feet from crest to trough. I trimmed the sails and was surprised that so little sail provided a good amount of speed.

The further we sailed the larger the waves became. With very little sail in use and the engine running we were making good speed.  The waves were closer to 12 to 14 feet high now. At the speed were traveling we would ride up the crest of one wave and slide down the other side. Reaching the trough of wave the ship tried to turn sideways. I had to fight the tiller to keep us square or the waves would have rolled us over. About 5 hours in my muscles were burning and I was in a robot-like trance. Giving up was not an option. The old girl was giving me her best. It was up to me to give my best.

There was a brief reprieve when we passed to the north of the Marquesas. Not much of one. The wave height dropped maybe a foot or two.

I was never really alarmed during this time. As long as I was vigilant and focused, reading the sea state  several waves ahead and  could feel the way the ship responded to the sail trim and tiller motion I was confident we could “Weather the storm.”

That was my life for the next 11 hours. I was very grateful that I was not prone to seasickness. My face was crusted with salt water sprayed up in the liquid form and the water evaporated leaving the salt behind. It felt like I had pressed my face into the sand.

The lights of Key West appeared on the horizon and wave height diminished slightly.

More of the shoreline became visible but I couldn’t find the middle channel. I decided to turn north and enter from the north channel. I figured that if the Coast Guard and US Navy came and went through this channel, I could find it.  

We traveled about 3 miles north and there it was. Well lit and welcoming.

The distance to the civilian port facilities was further south but waves were noticeably smaller and I no longer had to constantly fight the tiller.

I remembered that this had been the Fantasy Fest weekend. As bedraggled as I looked it wouldn’t have been out of place during the festivities.   

Luckily, we found a place to tie up for the night and then went searching for a room for with a floor that wasn’t constantly moving and pitching.  

We found a room and I needed a shower badly. I remember standing in the shower and trying to wash my hair. When I closed my eyes I was swaying so badly I had to get down on my knees with them firmly pressed to the sides of the tub to keep from falling over. I was land-sick.

I slept that night with one leg hung over the side of the bed with my foot flat on the floor.

This is a true event from my past. One of many.

Enjoy.

 Copywrite 2024 R. F. Gridley

March 05, 2024 19:16

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2 comments

D H
01:03 Mar 29, 2024

Great story Roger. Very cool idea. Keep up the amazing work.

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16:27 Apr 01, 2024

Thank you for the feedback.

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